


Mortal

by nbarker1990



Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbarker1990/pseuds/nbarker1990
Summary: A contemplation on life and death.





	Mortal

She’s been shaking for a few minutes now and Blake’s not even sure that she realizes. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t either except for the fact that she’s laying face-down on the bed, head buried in her pillow, and he’s trailing his fingers along her spine. Up, down. Ass to nape. Up, down, up, down, up, down. Gwen lets out a juddering sigh and he can hear the catch in her breath when she inhales again. 

 

“We’re been in here for over an hour now, sweetheart… ’m just gonna go check on the boys, ‘kay?”

 

She doesn’t move or respond, and so he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and exits their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Zelva’s still here until dinnertime, but his emotions have been churned up since this morning by the news and he just needs to _see_ them right now. He’d never really thought about what it would be like, the lack of assurances for your child’s future. And no, the boys aren’t _his_ but… Well, he loves them and maybe that’s close enough. 

 

Apollo reaches for him the moment Blake comes into view, and the open, happy expression on the toddler’s face has his stomach clenching hard. “Hey there, buddy,” he murmurs, picking the boy up and squeezing tight as small, slim arms wrap around his neck and he gets a big smacking kiss on the cheek. “You been behaving yourself?”

 

He hears Kingston snort from the other side of the room and shoots the eleven year old a grin. According to both him and Zuma, their youngest brother NEVER behaves himself. Also according to them, unsurprisingly, when they were the same age, they were perfect angels. He never spoils the story, never tells them that Gwen’s incredibly loose-lipped and relishes telling him all the best stories from before Blake came into their lives. ‘I need to be prepared for the next few years with Apollo,’ he’d once told her. ‘You’ve done this before and I’m just a newbie.’ 

 

‘You’re not _just_ anything, babe,’ she’d said, a hand around his neck as she pulled his head down so she could better reach his lips.

 

He adjusts his grip and walks both him and Apollo to the kitchen, trying to avoid accidentally tripping over Gingerbread, who’s recently taken to bouncing around underfoot whenever possible. “Want some juice, bud?”

 

“Apple?”

 

“Yeah, we can totally do that. Maybe an actual apple too. Gotta be healthy so we grow up big and strong, y’know.”

 

“A’ apple _and_ apple juice?” Apollo frowns. “No.” He shakes his head. “Nope.”

 

And that was that. 

 

Five minutes later, after giving Kingston a few quick tips on a tricky chord change he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of, he’s back in his and Gwen’s bedroom, wondering what to say, whether he should say anything at all.

 

The room is still light enough to see everything (sometimes he finds himself cataloguing the photos hung on the wall because it’s still CRAZY to him that his face is even anywhere near Gwen Stefani’s, for god’s sake…), but the curtains had been drawn earlier in the morning, which wasn’t normal. Then again, nothing about today is normal. Well, actually, much to their horror, waking up to news about dozens of people being shot was normal- _ish_ , and maybe that was one of the worst things about it all, actually, how you just become so used to the tragedy that it’s kind of numbing at some point. 

 

“Blakeee, c’mere. Please. I need you.”

 

She’s on her side now, an arm wrapped around her stomach and the protective gesture has him blinking back the tears that had been close to falling a few hours ago when the bad news had turned worse and they’d read about Tom Petty on Twitter. Legends falling one by one…

 

“Need you so bad.” Her voice is quiet and plaintive and tugs at every instinct in him to make sure nobody ever hurts her again. He’d long ago learned that was impossible, though, with _anyone_ you loved. 

 

“Didja want to talk about it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed and curling his body around hers, one of his hands coming to rest on top of hers. “Any of it?”

 

He loves having his arms around her, loves the way he can feel the way she relaxes at his touch. But he can’t see her face and can’t read her eyes and that’s kind of frustrating too. 

 

Blake clears this throat. “How about I start?” An imperceptible nod from his girlfriend. Okay then. “I think I’m going to get in touch with my lawyer next week.” She tenses up and he squeezes his eyes shut. Dumbass. Way to get the words wrong, worry her. Quickly, he rubs her arm, tries to reassure. “No, baby. Not. I… Nothing bad. I just… Y’know, we always watch these things happen on the news and there’s no knowing, y’know. When you might just, well, when you might die. And so… I haven’t changed my will since you and me - ”

 

“Hooked up?” she suggests, voice still husky with disuse.

 

Laughing against the back of her head, he kisses the tangled hair there. “Exactly. Hooked up. Got together. Started knocking boots.”

 

“Dork.”

 

“I want to change it, though. Fix things up just in case. For you and the boys.”

 

“Blake, we’re all set for life. You don’t need - ”

 

“You’re family.” He caresses her hand, stopping when his thumb reaches her ring finger. “One day,” he says slowly, tapping the place he knows his ring will one day be. She doesn’t ask what he means; she doesn’t need to. 

 

Gwen takes in a deep breath and he knows what’s coming the minute he realizes she’s moved their hands slightly lower. Her womb. Blake swallows. Blinks three times in quick succession as he waits for the words. 

 

“You don’t ha - ”

 

“When we lost…” She trails off. “Her. When we lost her.” 

 

He still remembers that evening in vivid, toe-curling detail, finding her hunched over in pain in the corner of the bathroom, the long, quiet trip to the hospital, the way she had flinched at his hug after the examination, had shut down totally when they’d come home at midnight, condolences and well-wishes ringing in their ears. Things hadn’t progressed far enough to know the gender, but Gwen had been so sure, is still so sure, that he’s never questioned it, doesn’t now either.

 

“I know the shooting has literally nothing to do with, y’know, what happened to me, but I just… It set me off.” He can hear her heartbeat - so, so fast. “It’s dumb, I know it’s dumb, but - ”

 

“You know when we had a little nap earlier?” he asks quietly, his lips moving against her ear. “I dreamed about it. About her.” Blake knows his next words are as much for him as her. “It’s not dumb. Death is death. Loss is loss.”

 

“It’s unfair.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It sucks.”

 

“Yep. It does.”

 

“Blake?” She turns in his arms, her face coming to rest against his chest and her fingers on his lower back under his button-down. They scratch lightly, will probably leave a mark. He likes that. “What if it happens _again_? What if we get our miracle and then it happens _again_? I can’t, I don’t think I could handle - ”

 

He kisses her, and his touch won’t make the fear go away, his lips can’t give guarantees. He knows that. “I love you, Gwen Stefani. You’re stronger than ya think you are, y’know. You’re way stronger than I am, I reckon. If you want to try, really try, I’m with you every step of the way. You know that. And if _that_ happens again, if we can't, I’ll still be totally in love with you and the boys, and life will _still_ be amazing and joyful and wonderful. That doesn’t change.”

 

Gwen’s kiss is a bit sloppy and he can almost taste the desperation when she bites down on his lower lip. “Is the door locked?” she says, reaching for his zipper, her hand shaking slightly.

 

He rolls them over, props himself up on his elbows as he looks down at her, takes in her still tear-streaked cheeks, her flushed skin. “Whatever you need. Always.”


End file.
